‘Are you sure?' Three astonished faces regarded her. She nodded. 'Oh yes. I don't know much, but what I know, I know.'

‘But surely-' began Derek.

‘Write it down,' said Tom. 'We haven't time to argue any more. Here's the next question.’

Dora's contribution was valued. Because of John's fond ness for quizzes, she'd watched a lot of them on television. It gave her an eclectic, if not frightfully useful, range of information. It was acknowledged that it was thanks to her that their team won.

‘That was brilliant!' said Tom, kissing her hard on the cheek.

‘Yes!' said the others, kissing her too. 'Now go up and choose a prize for us. Something to drink, if possible.' Dora came back with a bottle of rum.

Derek and Sheila were so pleased to have won. 'The people on Cinderella always win the quiz. Look at them now, pig sick! Now, let's go back to Avocet and make rum punches.'

‘Good idea,' said Tom. 'Have you got any limes?'

‘I'm afraid I can't come,' said Dora. 'I'm with Jo. The woman over there in the red top?'

‘Oh yes,' said Derek. 'Very attractive. Well, invite her, too.’

His wife shot him a discerning look. 'She looks as if she's tied up with her team. They came third, I think.'

‘I'd better go and join her,' said Dora.

Tom leapt out of his seat to follow her. 'Don't rush off! Come and have one rum punch, and then I'll see you home. I'd like to talk to you a bit more.'

‘Look, really, I'm not looking for any sort of relationship just now.’

Tom grinned. 'Nor am I! I want to know if you'd like to work for a boatyard.’

Feeling stupid for rushing in with that statement, Dora hoped he wouldn't notice her heightened colour. 'What?'

‘Don't look so horrified, I only meant in the office. But it's local, and you might enjoy it.’

Pleased that he hadn't connected her blush with her use of the 'R' word, she went on more happily, 'Surely you can't offer me a job?'

‘No, but I can get you to apply for it. Now, let's tell Jo you're coming home separately.'

‘Dora was brilliant in the quiz,' said Tom as they joined Jo's group. 'I'm Tom, by the way.' He shook Jo's hand in much the same way he'd shaken Dora's. 'We're going to Avocet to drink our prize. I'll bring her home safely. Has she got a curfew?’

At first, Jo didn't understand quite what he meant, and then found the notion hilarious. 'No she hasn't! She's an adult, she can do what she wants. Just don't let her fall in on the way back. Where is Avocet? Is it in the marina, or outside?'

‘Outside,' said Tom, 'with the other visiting boats.'

‘You'll need a fob, then,' said Jo. 'Here's the spare, I meant to give it to you earlier,' she added as she reached into her bra.

‘She's great!' said Tom as he escorted Dora down the stairs. 'And you've only lived with her for one day?'

‘I knew her when I was growing up though,' said Dora. 'But you're right. She's great.’

After drinking their prize on Avocet, Tom had wanted her to go back to the boat where he lived to carry on drinking, but Dora had been very firm about saying no. Much as she had (surprisingly) enjoyed herself this evening, it was quite late, and lovely as Jo undoubtedly was, she might not appreciate Dora having the hangover from hell the next day, especially when the cleaning process would be continued. Jo was very anxious about the boat parade.

Anyway, Dora couldn't cook with a hangover, and she had promised to make chocolate brownies to infuse the barge with a nice smell, and to bribe the visitors with. Jo had bought lots of beers and wine.

‘I know it's silly,' she had said, 'but I can't have people crossing my threshold without offering them something to eat or drink. Hospitality is my besetting sin.' She had paused for a moment. 'Well, one of them.'

‘What are the others?' Dora had asked.

‘Buying clothes from catalogues and not sending them back if they don't fit.'

‘What did you do instead?'

‘I gave them to the charity shop. But that was when I was a kept woman. I'm going to be far more practical now.' So, being practical also, Dora said goodnight to Tom.

Chapter Three

‘Do you want a cup of tea and some toast?' Jo spoke quietly but urgently through a crack in the door to Dora's cabin. 'It's nearly ten o'clock. The boat parade starts at eleven.’

Dora opened a reluctant, then a guilt-stricken eye. 'Oh my God, I'm so sorry.'

‘So, tea and toast?'

‘No, no. I'll get up. I'll have a shower and I'll go back on cleaning duty.'

‘We're pretty tidy now. As tidy as we're ever going to be, anyway. I'll have tea ready for when you're out of the shower.' Jo closed the door quietly behind her and wondered if Dora was likely to go back to sleep. It was with some relief that she heard her go to the bathroom a few moments later.

Jo had enjoyed her evening very much and yet she hadn't slept well. It was partly having Dora, she knew. Although she had protested so firmly that her lodger was an adult, she hadn't really settled until she'd heard Dora come in. And then there was Miranda who'd made her laugh so much and who'd wanted a job as a stable girl. She'd been so envious of Jo having a chance to start a new career and had given Jo a lot to think about. Up until then, she'd thought of herself as the injured party, battling valiantly to make a new life for herself. Now she had more or less done that, a new career was what she needed and wanted, she realised.

She'd lain awake much of the night thinking of what she could do. Being a stable girl was not an option for her, either. But she did have skills. She was quite a good gardener, although probably didn't fancy doing it all year round. She could cook up a storm if required and used to produce the most wonderfully creative birthday cakes: sculptures from butter icing, a very particular art. Remembering her ingenuity made her smile, but then she allowed herself a moment of bitterness for the number of dinners she'd cooked for her ex-husband's boring clients. That led her thoughts to the issue of whether he was an ex-husband if they weren't actually divorced yet. Yes, definitely, she decided. He was no longer her husband, he was the husband of the Floosie, even if they weren't married.

She could always cook in a pub or something. That might be fun. She could be a barmaid and wear the sparkly red top that had gone down so well with her fellow guests. Then she remembered that barmaids needed to be younger too. And maybe, if she was stuck in the kitchen all the time, she wouldn't enjoy working in a pub. Or a café? A nice, genteel café where they served teacakes and scones? Her mind had drifted back to her childhood. The Lavender Tearooms. They'd served wonderful things: jewel biscuits, jap cakes, macaroons, German biscuits, Dundee cake, Battenberg cakes, all sorts and all made on the premises. Yes, that idea definitely appealed. She wasn't sure that such establishments still existed, except possibly in Richmond, famous for its Maids of Honour confections and several miles away, but it was a good start.

Eventually she'd gone to sleep thinking about her garden, and wondering which of the roses were out. Would the Floosie learn to love her Paul's Himalayan Musk rambling up the copper beech, with pale pink and tiny blooms, as much as she had?

‘So sorry!' Dora appeared smelling of shower gel, her hair wet and curly. She picked up a slice of toast and put it into her mouth whole. 'You should have woken me earlier,' she mumbled.

Jo smiled. 'You need your sleep. I know you were in late.' She felt a pang of envy for youth, which allowed you to sleep as long as you needed to.

‘Oh, did I wake you?’